


Diversion

by PreludeInZ



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Date Night, Explosions, F/M, Fluff, Rabblerousing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 07:29:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3842296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreludeInZ/pseuds/PreludeInZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Originally written on tumblr and inspired by <a href="http://1fort-2fort-redfort-blufort.tumblr.com/post/105560178145/1fort-2fort-redfort-blufort-kidoblivion">this post</a>.</p></blockquote>





	Diversion

In spite of everything, in spite of the fact that he had bragged about it nearly non-stop since she’d agreed to go out with him, Scout really had no idea how to behave on a date with a girl he was actually serious about. The best piece of advice he’d been given was also the hardest to follow, because Heavy had told him to keep his mouth shut and let her do the talking. Sniper had followed this with the strict instruction that he _listen,_  and surprisingly, that made keeping his mouth shut a little easier. Who knew.

Paid off, too. She was sipping a glass of wine and smiling at him across a candlelit table in a restaurant she’d picked, and he was (quietly) reevaluating his entire life’s strategy up to that point. “This has been really nice, actually. No one ever listens to me whine about work." Miss Pauling confessed, and there was a definite tease of her toes against his ankle, beneath the table. "You know, I didn’t think you’d be such a good listener,” 

“Yeah, me neither,” Scout admitted, carefully. “Uh, well. S'pose you just got an interesting job. I guess.”

 “I really don’t." She laughed. Miss Pauling laughed a lot, he’d found out. Mostly at herself. Scout had discovered, in listening to her tell stories about her average work day, she didn’t take herself nearly as seriously as he’d always taken her. It was more than a little surprising, discovering that she was easy to relate to. That she really wasn’t  _that_ far out of his league after all. "Well, jeez, I feel a little bad, babbling at you all night. Is there anything you wanted to talk about?”

 _Mostly about how I am pretty sure I wanna marry you but I got strict instructions not to say that._ “Uh. Oh, um. Hell. Uh, heck. I dunno. Guess…well, I gotta question. Thought you only got the one day off? Didja get another, or d'you gotta go back to work tonight, or…?”

Her smile dropped, her eyes widened. “ _Shit,"_ she hissed through her teeth, and threw back the rest of her glass of wine. "Shit, oh hell. I _forgot_. Cause a diversion.”

The evening thus far had been an exercise in Scout second-guessing himself, but he  _did_ know for sure that when Miss Pauling gave an order, it should be followed promptly and without hesitation. And when a pretty girl in a slinky purple dress looked around the room furtively and then ducked under the table, probably you wanted to do whatever she said anyway.

But this was a classy place. Real classy, and it wasn’t like Scout had anybody to pick a fight with. He wasn’t even sure what this class of people tended to fight about. Shit he didn’t know about, probably. Damn. Dang. He scanned the room. Waiters in impeccable uniforms wove carefully between the tables, carrying bottles of wine, silver platters. The volume hovered around a restrained murmur, excepting the loud laugh of the man at the table next to theirs, who Scout had noticed Miss Pauling shooting annoyed glances at. He was glad he’d let her pick the restaurant. Of course she would prefer someplace quiet. Not like it would have in the sort of place Scout would have picked. Scout liked places that were generally just seconds away from erupting into general violence. Kept him on his toes.

Situational awareness, though. Drunken loudmouth. Mincing waiters. Silver platters and bottles. Tight quarters. Scout took a few moments, getting a feel for the rhythm of the room, then stuck his leg out into the middle of it.

Chaos ensued. He sent some poor bastard carrying a platter of lobster thermidor barreling into the neighbouring table, spilled china and silverware every which way. The man with the loud laugh bellowed drunkenly, stumbled to his feet, knocked his chair backward. This crashed to the floor, tripped another waiter. Showered someone’s wife with vichyssoise. It was like extremely expensive dominoes. Scout grinned into his glass of water, until someone terribly unlucky happened to stumble into him, and an elbow caught him in the cheek, sent him sprawling out of his own chair.

A wine bottle crashed. A woman screamed. Scout beamed, back in his comfort zone.  _Now_ it was a brawl. Scout snapped the leg off his chair with a ferocious kick, and dove gleefully into the fray.

Things were just about to really get rolling, and Scout had gotten the maitre d’ in a headlock, when there was a tremendous boom from outside the building.

That brought things crashing to a halt. Panicked little knots of people gathered by the windows, and Scout managed to remember to let the maitre d’ go. He was rubbing teeth shaped indentations on his knuckles and wondering whose fingernails had scraped his arm up, when Miss Pauling reappeared at his elbow.

“Wow,” she commented, sounding thoroughly impressed. “All I needed was to slip out the back door and blow up the Mayor’s car. You sure know how to wreck up a room.”

He grinned, and absolutely did not blush as she reached over to take his hand. “Aw, well. You got your job. I got mine.”

Miss Pauling smiled, pushed up on her tiptoes and pecked his cheek. “I’ll have to start bringing you along more often. You’re useful to have around.”

Best date ever.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written on tumblr and inspired by [this post](http://1fort-2fort-redfort-blufort.tumblr.com/post/105560178145/1fort-2fort-redfort-blufort-kidoblivion).


End file.
